


I'll Be There (Wherever You Go)

by undersomestairs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Not Epilogue Compliant, Secret Relationship, unfriendly weasleys (sorry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 23:19:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2288282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undersomestairs/pseuds/undersomestairs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Harry, a pregnancy isn't something to celebrate. Male pregnancy is viewed as dark magic, and it's illegal for a wizard to carry a baby to term. When he decides to keep it, he's lucky enough to have Draco backing him up, but not everyone in his life is so supportive. Harry and Draco have to go on the run to keep themselves and their unborn child safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be There (Wherever You Go)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [harrydracompreg](http://harrydracompreg.livejournal.com/) fest (like two years ago, idek man). It was based on a prompt by [icicle33](http://icicle33.livejournal.com/) and beta'd by the ever so lovely [celestlyn](http://celestlyn.livejournal.com/).

Harry was dead on his feet. He'd come crashing down from his caffeine high and was considering finding another coffee or even a pepper-up potion just to get himself home. He was trying not to trip over his own feet when pale fingers closed around his robes and he was yanked sideways into a small, dimly lit office.  
  
"Mer-" His exclamation was stopped by a hand clasped over his mouth, and he finally got a look at Draco Malfoy as he closed the door behind them. Harry pushed his hand away. "If anyone had seen that, they would have thought you were trying to attack and/or kidnap me."  
  
"They might be right," Draco said, smirking. "No one's around, though. I checked. Just you, me, and this conveniently abandoned office."  
  
"That happens to be the size of a broom cupboard. How lovely."  
  
Draco snorted, stepping forward until he was in Harry's breathing space. "Don't be a git. I'm surprising you at work; it's a very romantic gesture."  
  
"Of course," Harry agreed with a soft chuckle, eyeing Draco's lips. "But it's not work."  
  
"‘Surprising you at training' doesn't have the same ring to it," Draco pointed out. He reached up to cup Harry's face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs against the dark bags under Harry's eyes. "You look exhausted."  
  
"I had an exam. I was up most of the night studying. Finally passed out reading about male pregnancy. I didn't even know that was _possible_."  
  
"It's rare, and not really talked about. Most Aurors have probably never even had to deal with it," Draco mused, and Harry nodded.  
  
"Wasn't much about it on the exam. We have the rest of the day off, so I was headed home for a quick kip." He blinked and narrowed his eyes curiously. "Shouldn't you be at St. Mungo's today?"  
  
"I'm on break for lunch," Draco explained. "I wanted to come see you. It's been days."  
  
Harry was incredibly aware of his time away from Draco. "I know." He finally closed the space between them, catching Draco's lips for a drawn-out kiss. "I'd love to stay here and snog you, but I might fall asleep on you."  
  
"Let's meet up this weekend. You can think up something to tell Ron, can't you?" Draco's eyes were pleading and Harry smiled.  
  
"Ron told me he'll be staying over at Hermione's tonight, actually. I'll have the flat to myself."  
  
Draco's face lit up. "Perfect. I've got plans with Blaise, but he'll understand if I reschedule."  
  
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, biting nervously at his lip. "What if he asks questions about what you'll be doing instead?"  
  
"He won't. He knows I'm seeing someone."  
  
"You told him that?" Harry asked, his mind racing with who Blaise could tell, and how fast their private business would end up in the Prophet if he let it slip to the wrong person.  
  
"Of course I didn't tell him; I would have consulted you before I said anything. It's not like he's some oblivious Gryffindor, though. There's no way he hasn't figured it out." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I'm surprised Granger hasn't realized. She must be too busy with Weasley."  
  
"They do spend a lot of time making heart eyes at each other," Harry confirmed, though it didn't bother him. He had no doubt that he was the same way around Draco, even if he'd never admit it out loud.  
  
"I'm glad she's off your back, at least. And don't waste any time worrying about Blaise. My romantic affiliations are none of his concern, and I'm sure he wouldn't suspect it's  _you_  I'm seeing."   
  
He smiled to reassure Harry, even though his words weren't quite true. He knew there was a good chance Blaise had figured it out but was keeping it to himself for now. Even if he had, there was no point in letting Harry get worked up over it.  
  
He retrieved a pocket watch from his robes and sighed when he saw the time. "I have to get back. Get some rest, and send me an owl when Ron leaves, in case he's still around when training lets out. If not, I'll be there as soon as I can." He pressed another kiss to Harry's lips, light and fond. "I'll see you this evening, Harry."  
  
"See you," Harry said, wearing a tired grin even as he watched Draco slip out the door and out of sight.  
  
***  
  
Harry briefly considered waiting naked in front of the fireplace, but there was always the chance of Ron coming back. It had only taken one instance of Ron finding him stretched out bare on the sofa in front of the fireplace to decide that he would never again go with that foreplay idea. It had been weeks before he could look his best friend in the eye again.  
  
He did want it to be special, though. It had been two weeks since he and Draco had had more than a few stolen minutes alone together, and he was desperate for a proper shag and a cuddle. He had considered getting the two of them Muggle mobile phones so they could talk each other off – much more discrete than doing it with their heads in the Floo – but he hadn't brought it up with Draco yet. Maybe the next time they were apart for a while and he was sick of lonely wanking, he'd mention it.  
  
He had shucked his robes and kicked off his shoes when he'd first entered the flat, so there wasn't much left to do. He removed his belt and untucked his shirt from his pants, unbuttoning the top few buttons. He loosened his tie but left it hanging around his neck – easy to grab onto to and lead with, or to take off in order to tie one of them up. After two weeks, Harry didn't know what to expect. They might go all out with elaborate kinks or some slow and intense love-making, or they might just devour each other right there in the living room. (Not that they could stay there long if they did, on account of the Ron factor.)  
  
He stretched out on the sofa for a while and was considering putting the kettle on when the green flames roared to life. He sat up quickly, any ideas of affecting the half-dressed and waiting lover persona forgotten as Draco strode in. The blond hardly spared him a glance before taking hold of his tie and tugging him in the direction of his bedroom.   
  
"I've been going mad," Draco complained, the door rattling with the force he used to slam it shut behind them. "Counting down every minute until we could- You know, I nearly faked an illness so I could leave early. You make me so bloody irrational sometimes."  
  
He threw his robes off, leaving them piled in the corner of the bedroom to wrinkle. Harry just grinned, lightly pushing Draco backwards onto the bed. He dropped to his knees and made quick work of removing his lover's boots while Draco unbuckled his belt and stripped off his tie.  
  
"It was your idea to meet up tonight," Harry pointed out, and Draco scoffed as his fingers worked nimbly down his shirt, getting button after button undone.  
  
"Like you haven't been as miserable as I have," he shot back, but Harry picked up on the hint of uncertainty in his voice. He paused in tugging down Draco's left sock and leaned in, interrupting his focus with a drawn-out kiss.  
  
"I'm always miserable without you," he murmured, beaming at the way Draco's pale cheeks tinted pink. The blond gave his chest a weak shove.   
  
"Prat," Draco accused, the corners of his lips twitching up. Harry captured them in another kiss before returning his attention to revealing more skin.   
  
He nearly had his own shirt off when Draco managed to get fully undressed, and he was thrown onto his back on the bed. Draco made quick work of his button and zip before roughly yanking Harry's trousers down, making him slide across the bed after them.   
  
"Eager?" Harry teased, though his eyes were sparkling with lust as he took in the sight of Draco's nude form standing over him. Draco smirked and leaned down, hooking his index fingers under the waistband of Harry's pants at each hip. He dragged them down slowly, peppering Harry's thighs with soft kisses and nips as he went. Harry propped himself up on his elbows to watch and groaned as Draco littered his skin with red marks.  
  
"Merlin's beard, you're going to make me come without even touching my prick," he groused, sitting up fully and reaching for Draco. He snaked a hand around the blond's waist and pulled him onto the bed, laying over his back when Draco ended up face-down. He pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto the nightstand.  
  
Harry moaned, starting to grow achingly hard just from the tingling sensation of skin against skin. He rocked his hips, the head of his cock smearing precome against Draco's lower back, and sucked at the skin where Draco's neck met his shoulder. Draco hummed, stretching out languidly and enjoying the warmth provided by Harry's body covering his.  
  
"Been far too long," he mumbled, turning his head towards Harry. Harry moved up a few inches and tilted his head to reach Draco's lips, their tongues engaging in a slow, hypnotic dance.  
  
Harry finally pulled away, unable to ignore his need any longer as his hips jerked minutely in search of friction. He reached over Draco for the nightstand, opening the drawer there and feeling blindly until he found the bottle of warming lubricant. He pushed himself up to kneeling and Draco twisted his upper body until he could watch as Harry squeezed some onto his palm.  
  
Harry's head fell forward and he groaned as he stroked it onto his cock, tipping forward and catching himself with his left hand. Draco moved to his hands and knees, his back pressed to Harry's chest yet again, and Harry pressed lazy, open-mouthed kisses to his skin as he slicked up his cock.   
  
Harry straightened up, scooting forward on his knees until his hips could touch Draco's arse. He took hold of his cock and positioned it between the blond's thighs, just below his bollocks, which he rolled around in his lube-slick hand until they shined. Draco groaned and obediently shifted his thighs when Harry gripped them, pressing them together to create a tight space around Harry's cock.  
  
"Oh, Merlin," Harry moaned as his prick slid between Draco's thighs in his first few thrusts. He hadn't been lying about being on the edge – it was mere minutes before he was plunging forward, the sound of his hips slapping against Draco's arse echoing through the room. He was gripping Draco's thighs so tightly that his knuckles were white, desperate to keep the delicious pressure around his cock.  
  
"Shit, Draco," he swore, his breath coming out in harsh pants. Draco was fisting his own cock slowly, his body trembling with soft hums and moans. "Oh, love, fuck," Harry breathed, biting his lip and pressing his forehead to the middle of Draco's back. He could feel the small bumps of Draco's arched vertebrae as the blond rolled back against him, and with a few more thrusts he was coming undone.  
  
"Oh, Draco, love," he moaned, coating the inside of Draco's thighs with his come. He panted, his breath hot on Draco's back and hips twitching with tiny aftershocks, until he was able to pull himself together and flip his lover onto his back.  
  
Draco grinned up at him, running his hands through the thin layer of sweat on Harry's chest and flicking Harry's left nipple with his thumb. "The sounds you make," he murmured, leaning up to lick and suck at the right nipple as he continued to tweak the other one.   
  
Harry moaned, trailing his fingers down Draco's taut bicep. "Want to suck you," he said. "Make you scream for it."  
  
Draco pulled back with a pleased chuckle, making himself comfortable propped up on the pillows and spreading his legs. "No objections here."  
  
Harry grinned, dipping to press a kiss to Draco's sternum and creating a path of them down to his cock. He passed over it, rubbing his palms over the red marks on Draco's thighs that he knew would become finger-shaped bruises. The thought made his prick twitch where it was hanging against his thigh.  
  
He rubbed his hands through the mess he'd left, spreading lube and semen over Draco's skin and drinking in the sight while he could. He grabbed a tissue from the box on his nightstand and wiped him off, knowing Draco wouldn't thank him for being left covered in a sticky mess.  
  
A few stray drops of come decorated Draco's bollocks, and Harry flicked his tongue out to pick them up. Draco grunted and lost his pale fingers in Harry's dark hair, tugging at the strands to pull Harry towards his cock. Harry obeyed, licking long stripes up the underside of Draco's cock before taking the head between his lips. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive pink glans and wrapped his hand around the shaft, thick with blood. He stroked firmly as he lavished attention to the tip, the velvet skin shifting and tugging as he twisted his grip with each pull.  
  
"Oh, that's bloody good," Draco breathed, rubbing small circles into Harry's scalp with his fingertips. His hips bucked up to chase the pleasure and Harry restrained him with a hand to his thigh. He pressed his fingernails to the skin and slowly dragged them down, pulling his head back so he could watch his lover's face. Draco reached back to hang onto the corners of a pillow, releasing a deep groan and trembling as he tried to keep from thrashing about under Harry.  
  
Harry took a moment to admire the white lines that quickly changed to a pink and contrasted deliciously with Draco's pale skin. He leaned in and licked over the light scratches, his hand picking up the pace on Draco's shaft. Draco whimpered and slung one of his legs over Harry's shoulder, digging his heel into Harry's back as he pulled him towards his prick.  
  
Harry only stroked the base as he wrapped his lips around Draco's cock again, a quick jerking of his fist. He sucked in the head and the first couple inches of the shaft and bobbed his head, breathing heavily through his nose as he channeled all of his focus into getting Draco off. Gasps and whimpers escaped Draco's lips between the bouts of loud moaning and swearing, and his fingers were tangled in Harry's hair so tightly that he couldn't have gotten away without ripping it out.  
  
"Oh, fuck, Merlin,  _yes,_ " he hissed, toes fanning and curling as he tried to make it last just a little bit longer. "Ah – oh, ngh, Harry!" he cried weakly, his orgasm punching the breath out of him. He made a soft, broken sound as he fell apart, raggedly gasping to fill his lungs.  
  
"Bloody hell," he breathed, his breath hitching again as Harry licked his prick clean. Draco released his tight hold on Harry's hair, stroking through it to tame it a bit before brushing his knuckles against Harry's cheek fondly. Harry grinned at him, turning his head to lightly kiss the inside of Draco's wrist.  
  
"Missed you," he said quietly, and Draco couldn't hold back joyful laughter.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I missed you as well," he said, still chuckling as Harry crawled up to lay on his chest. Their lips slanted together and they shared soft kisses until Draco's heart rate was under control.  
  
"I want to fuck you," Draco murmured, watching Harry's eyes for a reaction. Harry's eyebrows shot up – they had engaged in penetrative sex before, sure, but it wasn't nearly as common for them as all of the other things they could do together. He smiled slowly and nodded, kissing Draco again with more enthusiasm.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, brilliant," he agreed, climbing off of Draco and grabbing the lube again.   
  
Draco took it from him and positioned him on his hands and knees, kneeling behind him. Harry shifted so his legs were spread but still stable enough to hold him up, and he grabbed two pillows to lay his head down on so it was just his arse stuck up in the air. Draco ran his hand reverently over a cheek before giving it a playful smack that made Harry jump in surprise.   
  
Draco chuckled and leaned in to press a few open-mouthed kisses to the other cheek, brushing his tongue against the skin. "Gorgeous," he breathed, straightening up and briefly running his hand up and down Harry's back. "Just gorgeous."  
  
"You going to take a picture, or are you going to fuck me?" Harry taunted, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow, and Draco just smirked.  
  
"Is that you giving me permission to photograph you bare-arsed and wanting?" he asked, and Harry snorted.  
  
"Not bloody likely. Now, get on with it." He arched his back more severely, and there was a greater edge of need in his voice when he added, "Please, Draco."  
  
Draco poured lube into his hand and spread it over his fingers. He parted one of Harry's cheeks to expose his hole and squeezed the slickness directly onto it, spreading it around generously with his already wet fingertips. Harry shivered a bit and then moaned when it quickly warmed. Draco carefully worked his index finger inside, sitting back with his arse on his heels. He knew it would take a while to get Harry ready, though it would be well worth it to have his lover writhing with pleasure on his cock. He was still limp from having Harry's mouth on him and needed time before he would be ready again, anyway.  
  
He watched the muscles in Harry's thighs and back tense as he adjusted to the feeling of Draco's finger within him. He gradually relaxed and pushed back into the intrusion, even through Draco's steady thrusting.   
  
"Second one," Draco warned at a near whisper. He withdrew his finger and pushed it in again with his middle pressed against it. Harry gasped and clawed at the sheets, and Draco ran his hand soothingly along the back of Harry's thigh. "It's alright, love. I've got you."  
  
Harry hummed and didn't squirm away, allowing Draco to get him used to the added stretch. Draco curved his fingers once he could work them in without resistance, and Harry's groan informed him when he found his prostate.   
  
"That's – fuck, yes," Harry breathed, nodding into the pillow. "That's good. Very good."  
  
Draco pulled his hand away completely when he decided Harry was ready for a third finger, and Harry whimpered in protest. "I've got you," he repeated, and Harry sighed, relaxing again and trusting Draco to take care of him. Draco added more lube to his fingers and used his left hand to rub a bit more onto his slowly filling cock. It felt strange to touch himself with his non-dominant hand, but he was only idly stroking as he stationed his fingers at his lover's hole again.  
  
"Three this time," he said, and Harry took a deep breath. Draco pushed in on the exhale, taking it centimeter by centimeter until they were deep into him. The muscles were tight around his digits, cramping them so close together that he winced, and it took considerable finger strength to start stretching them out to get Harry accustomed to the stretch he had coming.  
  
He was stiff again and so ready by the time Harry gave the all-clear, pushing himself up on his hands as he rocked back on Draco's thrusting fingers. Draco was slow and cautious as he pulled them out, giving Harry's rear another light smack.  
  
"On your back," he requested, and Harry easily complied. He got settled comfortably with his back on the mattress, hair fanning out over the pillows, and legs spread wide. Draco couldn't help but grin and run greedy hands over every part of him he could reach.  
  
" _Gorgeous_ ," he repeated. He spread more lube onto his prick with a few quick tugs and leaned over Harry, supporting himself on his elbows. "I love you," he said softly, grey eyes serious as they always were when he said those words, to ensure Harry knew he absolutely meant them. Harry nodded, running his hands over Draco's tensed, solid deltoids.  
  
"Love you too," he said with a soft smile. He presented Draco with every inch of love and trust he had as he rocked his hips up and let Draco reach down to guide his prick into Harry's wet and open arse.  
  
"Merlin," Harry breathed, closing his eyes. Draco grunted and pressed his forehead to Harry's shoulder, mouthing weakly at his chest. He moved forward slowly and listened carefully for any sounds of distress. He stopped after a particularly pained gasp, waiting until Harry rubbed his shoulders.  
  
"I'm alright. I'm fine," he promised, turning his head and kissing the hair by Draco's temple, darkened with sweat. "You can move, I'm fine."  
  
Draco moaned gratefully, hardly able to form words. "I've got you," he murmured once again, making short, shallow thrusts to work Harry open. Harry moaned, lifting his hips and shifting to try and find the best angle.  
  
"Oh! There's good." He sucked in a shaky breath, nodding quickly. "That, there, yes."  
  
Draco rocked his hips steadily, relishing the sweet friction. He felt Harry's cock nudge against his stomach as it rose, and grinned when Harry snaked his hand down to take hold of it.  
  
"Bet- Bet I can make you come before I do," he challenged, feeling the rumble against his chest as Harry chuckled.  
  
"You're on," he breathed, though it couldn't have mattered less whether he won or not. He stroked himself firmly, throwing his head back and gasping as Draco rolled his hips to hit Harry's prostate as he thrust in hard. "Fuck, Draco. There, there,  _please._ "  
  
Draco continued to rock into him with a focused precision, his eyes on Harry's face. Harry alternated between gaping and biting his lip, moaning out and muffling soft whimpers. Draco peppered his jaw line with kisses, the burn of his arm muscles increasing every second.  
  
"Fuck," Draco muttered, stopping his hips and pushing himself up on his hands. Harry reached out for his shoulders, gripping them tightly.  
  
"No!" he begged as Draco's prick slid out of him, his eyes wild. Draco sat back on his knees and took Harry's hands to kiss his knuckles  
  
"I'm not finished," he promised. He slotted his hands under Harry's knees and lifted until Harry's legs were over his shoulders, shuffling until he was able to direct his prick back into Harry's hole.  
  
Draco held Harry's thighs against his chest as he thrust in slowly, and the sight of his cock disappearing into his lover's arse made him groan. "Oh, that is brilliant," he murmured, turning his attention to finding the proper angle as Harry moaned.  
  
"Fuck! Draco, fuck," Harry growled when he found it, his hand finding its way back to his cock. Draco mouthed at the curve of Harry's knee and found a steady rhythm, pausing only to squeeze more lube over his and Harry's pricks. "More, love. Come on, more."  
  
Draco's hips drove in faster. "Oh, hell," he groaned, conjuring up some less than appetizing images in his mind to keep from reaching his peak. He rolled his hips against Harry's arse, loving the slapping sounds of skin against skin, and watched his lover desperately wrench his own cock.  
  
"There, more of- of that, yes, Draco," Harry moaned, staring back at Draco with half-lidded eyes. Draco could feel Harry's muscles going tight around him a few thrusts later as he shot lines of come up his chest. "Fuck, ngh, oh Merlin, fuck," Harry gasped out, wringing out the last few drops from his prick.  
  
Draco let the dam break. He willingly surrendered to the pleasure and snapped his hips forward roughly, groaning uncontrollably as he drowned in the feeling of tighthotwet around his cock. A handful of thrusts later, he was gone. He plunged deep into Harry, emptying his come into his lover's arse with a loud cry.  
  
He bucked his hips until he'd shot out all he had, just barely managing to pull out and let Harry's legs fall before collapsing on top of Harry. "Oof!" Harry grunted, but was smiling as he shoved at Draco's chest. "Off o' me."  
  
Draco groaned and rolled onto his back next to Harry, trying to catch his breath. "I won," he said eventually, and Harry stared at him oddly until he understood. He snorted, shaking his head.  
  
"S'pose you did," he agreed, stretching his arms above his head and dropping one across Draco's front. He stroked his thumb against the soft flesh of Draco's belly, smiling to himself. "Choose your prize."  
  
Draco grinned and was quiet for a while. "Our friends not being arseholes when they find out about us. That's what I want."  
  
Harry breathed out a soft sigh, turning onto his side with a wince. "Can't promise you that, I'm afraid," he murmured, leaning in to kiss at Draco's shoulder. "You know I wish I could."  
  
In the beginning, their relationship had always seemed so delicate, like letting anybody in on the secret might be all it took to break what was forming between them. After nearly a year, they knew they were solid together. Their feelings were real and they couldn't keep it to themselves forever – neither of them even wanted to. It had just never seemed like the right time and they didn't have any idea what kind of reaction to expect, but both feared the worst.  
  
"I can give you more fantastic sex," Harry offered, and Draco chuckled.  
  
"Maybe when I can feel my legs again." His fingers sifted through Harry's sweaty hair, which curled at the ends where it was getting long. Green eyes fixed on him, sleepy and fond, and Draco pulled him in closer. He definitely wouldn't be able to keep his love for Harry a secret much longer.  
  
***  
  
Harry groaned as another wave of nausea swept through him, lying back and taking deep breaths as he waited for it to pass. He'd been feeling queasy off and on for three weeks, but so far hadn't actually thrown up. That was the only thing keeping Draco from dragging him out to St. Mungo's, though he was getting more insistent by the day that Harry go and get checked out by a healer. A healer-in-training himself, he found Harry's resistance to seek medical attention very frustrating.  
  
Harry's general attitude towards illness was to just wait it out, but in three weeks he'd only gotten steadily worse, and it was more than just fighting to keep his breakfast down. He knew he'd only have a few more days before Draco would be physically dragging him to a healer.  
  
As soon as his stomach stopped its threatening lurching, he got up from the bed and threw on a pair of baggy, comfortable jeans and a mostly clean T-shirt. He pulled his robes on over them to help him blend in more, not really in the mood to be stopped to shake hands or take photographs. Two years since the Battle at Hogwarts and the shine still hadn't worn off for people. Draco often mocked him for thinking it ever would.  
  
He took the Floo to Diagon Alley, brushing some ash off his robes as he turned left down the cobblestone street towards Wiseacres Wizarding Supplies. He'd seen the article in the Prophet about the SymCheck, a new product causing controversy among healers who worried it might misdiagnose sick witches and wizards and they wouldn't get the treatment they actually needed. Harry just hoped it could give him some ideas of what might be wrong so he could judge the seriousness of the situation, and hopefully go back to waiting for it to pass.  
  
There was a display of them set up just inside the shop, and Harry grabbed one of the boxes. He was already beginning to feel sick again so he took it directly to the counter, and handed over the three galleons and fourteen sickles quickly. "Cheers," he murmured, tucking his purchase under his arm and heading back out so he could go home – preferably before he sicked up on his shoes in front of all the other shoppers.  
  
The Floo nearly did him in, and he stumbled towards the couch and closed his eyes, sucking in deep breaths and concentrating on keeping the contents of his stomach where they belonged. When he was finally up to moving again, he trudged into the kitchen to put the kettle on for tea.  
  
He sat at the table, cup in hand, and used his wand to tear open the packaging. He skimmed through the provided manual, mostly just focusing on the directions. With a tap of his wand, the SymCheck lit up and prompted him to tell it his gender, age, height, and weight. The light turned green when he finished and waited for him to tell it his symptoms.  
  
"Feeling like I'm about to be sick. I'm tired a lot. Headaches, but that might be part of being knackered all the time. My back hurts. Mostly my lower back, really. My hips ache, too. And, er, my chest is… sensitive." He thought about anything else that had been wrong with him. His pinky toe sort of hurt, but he'd stubbed it against the corner of his bed the day before so he didn't think that counted. With a nod and a second glance at the directions, he tapped the SymCheck again and the light turned yellow.  
  
His symptoms appeared on the screen, which reminded him quite a bit of a computer monitor – he remembered reading that the inventor was Muggle-born. He read over the simplified list of his afflictions and – though he wished it had chosen some other phrasing than ‘breast tenderness' – touched his wand to it again to confirm it was all correct. The words on the screen changed, instructing him to firmly grip the handles on either side.  
  
The SymCheck hummed as he held onto it, feeling the pulses of magic it sent out coursing through him and testing him for common ailments. It lasted nearly a minute before it calmed and four words filled the space of the screen.  
  
‘ _SymCheck Diagnosis: MALE PREGNANCY_ '  
  
Harry read it three times before the shocked laughter finally bubbled out of him. He couldn't believe he'd put so much faith in the device when it was clearly rubbish. The idea of him being pregnant was ridiculous. Only, he and Draco never used protection when they were together, and Draco had topped him on that one night six weeks prior. And thinking about it, his symptoms were similar to some of Fleur's when she had been pregnant with Victoire.   
  
He gave all of his information to the SymCheck again, wiping sweat off his palms before he took hold of the handles. After a minute's wait, it gave him the same results.   
  
"No," he breathed, sitting back in his chair and staring at the words with wide eyes. He remembered a healer training textbook that Draco had left there when he'd left for St. Mungo's that morning – they had Harry's flat to themselves for a weekend while Ron and Hermione went to visit Charlie in Romania – and rushed to the bedroom to grab it. It was huge and the writing was tiny, but he flipped through until he found an overview of pregnancy.  
  
Everything was clicking into place and sending him further into a panic. He found his own textbook, half-hidden under a pile of dirty clothes in the corner, and found the page on male pregnancy. It was no more than that – just a page of something that had made him laugh uncomfortably when he first read it (barely conscious, just minutes from falling asleep at his desk). He gripped the book tightly and read with heightened concentration.  
  
Male pregnancy was against the law. It had been considered taboo as early as the fifteenth century, and from then on the only documented cases of male pregnancies carried to term involved dark wizards and their followers. Due to an assumed connection between dark magic and male pregnancy, it had been outlawed in Wizarding Britain in the early 1800s, and orders were for immediate abortion. Resistance was as incriminating as declaring intentions of world domination.   
  
He closed the book and dropped down onto his mattress. He felt sick again, and not because of the – oh, Merlin –  _pregnancy hormones_. He buried his face in his hands and took deep breaths like he'd been practicing, but the dizzy nausea wasn't leaving him. As disbelieving as the situation was, something about it felt very true, like it couldn't be anything else. He was suddenly very glad he hadn't agreed to go to St. Mungo's.   
  
The realization startled him. He was glad that no one could force him to terminate the pregnancy because he didn't  _want_  to. He had always valued the idea of being a parent, and of treating kids right and letting them know they were loved, completely the opposite of how he was raised. Knowing he couldn't have kids of his own had been one of the harder parts of coming to terms with his sexuality. He would give just as much love and attention to an adopted child, he knew, but he hadn't gotten much more from his parents than their genetics, and something about sharing that with another generation greatly appealed to him. And combined with Draco's, he could only imagine what the kid would be like. The thought of not getting to see for himself was crushing.  
  
He sat on the edge of his bed, tugging at his hair as his neurons went to war. On the one hand, he had a history of breaking rules with good intentions, and it usually worked out well for him. On the other, he was training to be an Auror, and this wasn't something he could just get away with without being noticed. He lightly touched his hand to his stomach and knew he wouldn't – _couldn't_  – give it up without a fight, but he didn't know what kind of life he could give to a child whose birth was considered criminal.  
  
The fire out in the living area roared to life, and the sound made Harry's stomach twist. In his internal debate, he'd forgotten about Draco. He stood slowly and made his way out of the bedroom, watching the back of Draco's head as his boyfriend disappeared into the kitchen.  
  
"Love?" Draco called, and Harry followed him in.  
  
"Right here," he announced quietly, and Draco spun around with a smile.  
  
"Having a lie-down? Are you still not feeling well?" His forehead wrinkled with concern, and smoothed out again as he noticed the device on the table. "Is that- You actually bought a SymCheck?" he asked, laughing incredulously. "Alright, if it's bad enough that you went out and purchased one of these monstrosities, I'm taking you to a healer."  
  
"Draco-" Harry protested, but Draco held up a hand to silence him.   
  
"Harry, I'm serious. You might be really ill, and I'm not going to let you get any worse because you're too stubborn to get help."  
  
"I'm not sick," Harry argued, and Draco's eyebrows arched towards his hairline.   
  
"Did the SymCheck tell you that? Because the man who invented that bloody thing isn't even a healer, you know, and-"  
  
Draco stopped when Harry pulled out his wand to tap the device once. It lit up yellow again, displaying the last words he'd seen before leaving the kitchen.  
  
‘ _SymCheck Diagnosis: MALE PREGNANCY_ '  
  
Harry watched Draco, whose eyes stayed fixed on the screen. "There's a spell, isn't there?" he asked quietly. "To know for sure. I think the SymCheck does it, but go on."  
  
Draco swallowed hard, finally looking at him. He pulled his wand out of his robes and swirled it in front of Harry, his eyes growing even wider when it shot out green and blue sparks, like a round of little celebratory fireworks.  
  
Staring at his partner's pale, shocked face didn't make Harry feel much like celebrating.  
  
"Say something," he finally said, coming out as more of a desperate plea than a calm demand. He cleared his throat and Draco exhaled heavily.  
  
"How long ago did you find out?" he asked, his tone void of any emotion.  
  
Harry checked the time. "Almost three hours." It hadn't felt that long. He had no idea how much time he spent sitting in his room, just rubbing his hands over his midsection and thinking.  
  
"You haven't gone to St. Mungo's," Draco noted, his face still blank. Not being able to read his face was unnerving, but Harry still knew what he was really saying. He hadn't made any effort to terminate the pregnancy.  
  
"No. I don't plan to," Harry told him, trying to project more confidence than he felt. Losing Draco's support in this might be more than he could take. Draco's lips quirked up and he nodded, leaning against the back of the chair.  
  
"Well, if anyone could convince the masses that it isn't actually evil, it would be The Great Savior," Draco said, a hint of teasing in his voice. Harry blinked and a burst of surprised laughter escaped him.  
  
"Not with the conspiracy theories. There's still a bit about me becoming the next dark lord in the Prophet every other day, it seems like."   
  
Harry wished he could track down whoever had let slip to the media that he'd spent much of his life with a Horcrux embedded within him. He hadn't really reminded before – it was ridiculous to the point of being funny – but if he was going to try to carry an illegal pregnancy to term, it could really create some problems for him. For both of them.  
  
He eyed Draco curiously. "You're really alright with this?"  
  
Draco opened his mouth to answer and closed it against after a moment of silence. "I have nothing against male pregnancy. There's a portrait of Arcturus Black in the manor, and he goes on these rants about how the Ministry was wrong to outlaw it. He told me once, when no one was around, that he had a partner and child he'd had to keep hidden. And my parents never said anything either way on the subject, so it's never bothered me." He licked his lips. "Me being a father, though… that's an entirely different story."  
  
Harry chuckled, feeling himself relax as he pulled out another chair to sit at the table with Draco. "I've hardly even had time to feel overwhelmed about that." He reached for Draco's hand, covering it loosely with his own. "I think we could do alright. I had a goldfish once, and I kept it alive for a whole six months. I'm definitely prepared to raise a kid."  
  
Draco snorted and leaned over to kiss him. "You would be a great father," he said seriously, and Harry blushed.  
  
"You  _will_  be," Harry said, and Draco's eyes glazed over a bit, like he still couldn't believe it was true. "The hard part will be getting there."  
  
"We'll figure it out," Draco assured him. "We'll think of something. In the meantime, I think we should keep it to ourselves."  
  
"And we thought it would be bad when they found out about us," Harry joked, sighing. "I think I'll make dinner."  
  
He moved to stand but Draco put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in the chair. "I'll do it," he insisted, hopping up to put the kettle on. Harry watched him with a smirk, his eyes fond, and lightly rubbed his hand across his middle.   
  
***  
  
Harry pushed back the sleeves of his jumper as he took his usual chair at the Weasley table. The room was full without being uncomfortably crowded – he'd seen the place when the whole family got together and the table was magically enlarged to the point that it hardly fit inside the house. Ron, Hermione, George, Ginny, Arthur, and Molly were all gathered around, passing food and chattering happily.  
  
Harry smiled as he accepted a bowl of mashed potatoes from Ron, adding a hearty spoonful to his plate. His nausea had mostly restricted itself to the mornings, and he spent the rest of the day hungry. He was gaining weight already, and his baggiest jumpers were getting a lot of use. Draco seemed just as eager to get him naked as ever, so Harry wasn't really bothered by his thickening torso, but he didn't want to draw attention to it and stir up questions. It was tricky enough avoiding having even a Butterbeer in the month since he'd found out he was pregnant without anyone wondering.  
  
Ginny passed him the plate of chicken, her hand lingering on his arm. He gave a small smile, not wanting to be rude but not wanting to encourage her, either. He glanced away and noticed approving smiles from Molly and Hermione as they eyed the connection.  
  
"So Harry, have you been seeing anyone lately?" Molly asked, not at all subtle. He grimaced, but Ron snorted before he could answer.  
  
"Yeah, right. Harry hasn't had a date in ages. Still hung up over a certain someone, if you ask me," he said, and just winked at him when Harry glared.  
  
"Ron," Hermione admonished quietly, though the corners of her lips were twitching upwards.   
  
"What? I'm helping. Go on, mate, just ask her out again," Ron encouraged, looking between his sister and his best friend. Harry glanced at Ginny and saw she was blushing but still grinning as though she approved of the attention and encouragement. Harry squirmed with discomfort.  
  
"Er- no, sorry," he mumbled, and Ron rolled his eyes dramatically.  
  
"We all know you want to," he insisted, and Harry clenched his teeth.  
  
"I happen to be seeing someone," he said bitterly, the raging frustration drowning out the anxiety of having just admitted that. "For over a year now." The nerves began to swirl in his stomach when he had six pairs of eyes intently fixed on him.  
  
"No you haven't," Ron finally said, laughing. "Like I wouldn't have noticed you going out with someone for a whole year."  
  
"Who is it?" Hermione asked, looking curious but not disbelieving. Harry wasn't surprised to think she'd suspected it. Ron looked at her and gaped for a moment before looking back at Harry.  
  
Harry took a deep breath. Having that bit of truth come out opened the floodgates. "Draco. Malfoy," he added, feeling sort of stupid. It wasn't like they knew anyone else named Draco, but he wanted them to stop with the incredulous staring.   
  
"You're having a laugh," Ron accused, at the same time as Hermione said, "Draco?" and Ginny said, "What?!" Harry sighed and slumped back in his chair. For the time being, he'd lost his appetite.  
  
"I'm not, really. I didn't mean for it to just come out like this and I've always been worried about what you'd all think, but it's not going away. And I'm sorry, Ginny, if you've been thinking that I'd…" He trailed off, running his fingers through his hair and adjusting his glasses. "But I'm really happy," he finished quietly.  
  
"You're lying," Ron said, and Harry rolled his eyes.  
  
"I'm not, Ron. Draco and I-"  
  
"It's not funny, Harry!"  
  
"What do you want me to do to prove it?" Harry spat out. "Do you want me to bring him here to meet you all? Would that be enough for you to believe me? Do you want to, oh Merlin, I don't know- Do you want to do a damn pregnancy test on me? Would that be evidence enough for you?"   
  
Molly gasped, and Arthur and George's jaws were hanging down. Hermione was watching Harry with concern while Ron turned an increasingly deeper shade of red, and Harry didn't even want to turn and see what Ginny's face looked like.  
  
"You're pregnant?" Hermione asked him, leaning towards him. "Have you been to see a healer yet?"  
  
"Not the point, Hermione!" Ron protested, and his girlfriend glared at him.  
  
"If Harry's happy, then that's what's important, no matter what we think about Draco. This isn't about you right now." She turned her worried gaze back on Harry. "Do you need someone to go with you to get it terminated, Harry? We're here for you.  _I'm_  here for you," she corrected, obviously not able to guarantee Ron's involvement just yet, and she shot him a glare for good measure.  
  
Harry rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm not terminating it," he admitted, looking wearily around at the Weasleys and Hermione, who grimaced.  
  
"Harry, I know you probably don't know much about male pregnancy, but it's dark magic," she said, talking to him like he was a smile child who just hadn't learned yet. He felt his stomach drop. "It's against the law to keep it. But if we go to St. Mungo's, I can help you with the paperwork and you can have it terminated. They'll teach you how to be more careful."  
  
"I know what the law says, Hermione," he told her, and she finally looked truly shocked. "I know they think it's dark, but it isn't. We haven't decided exactly what we're doing yet, but I'm not getting rid of it."  
  
"Did Malfoy tell you that?" George asked, finally speaking up. "That it isn't dark magic?"  
  
"He's manipulating you," Ron insisted, and the other male Weasleys nodded in agreement. Molly clasped her hands in front of her quivering lips. Harry groaned.  
  
"He isn't! We've been doing a lot of reading and I know all about the history of it. It became taboo because Muggle men can't get pregnant, so pregnant male wizards were too obvious. Some wizards who practiced dark magic didn't care about that, so people started associating the two. It doesn't mean the pregnancy itself is evil."  
  
Hermione looked considering but wary. It was a step-up from any of the Weasleys faces, which ranged from furious to horribly distraught.   
  
"I'm getting Robards," Ron declared, and Harry's eyes went wide at the mention of the Head of the Auror Office.   
  
"Wait, you can't-"  
  
"I bloody well can, Harry!" he interrupted, his face still flaming red with anger. "If you think I'm going to let him get away with manipulating you like this-"  
  
"He isn't manipulating me!"   
  
"Then you're just as bad!" Ron shouted. "And after all you've done for us, I'm not going to let you become  _this_."   
  
He said the words with such disgust that Harry felt sick, and nothing like the way he'd felt it for the past two months. This was a different, miserable sickness. Ron pulled out his wand and Harry stood, pushing his chair back and not caring when it tipped and scraped down the wall on its way to the floor. He rushed out of the room and Apparated to Draco's, breathing heavily as the panic set in.  
  
He had popped in behind the sofa, and Draco twisted to face him at the sound. "Harry?" He frowned, confused. "I thought you were having dinner at The Burrow tonight."  
  
Harry wanted nothing more than to press up against Draco until his heart rate calmed, but he already felt like he was being chased and couldn't afford to waste the time. He couldn't be sure Ron  _hadn't_  already contacted Robards, and Draco's flat would be one of the first places they looked for him.  
  
"I told them," he said simply, biting his lip and feeling guilty. They'd promised to keep it quiet and he hadn't, and they were potentially very fucked. "About you and the baby. I didn't mean to, Draco, it all sort of slipped out."  
  
Draco closed his book and stood, walking around the couch. Harry met him halfway and Draco rubbed up and down his arms to soothe him. "Didn't go well?" he asked sadly, and Harry squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't look at Draco as he delivered the real blow.  
  
"Ron said he was going to tell Robards."  
  
"Shit," Draco swore quietly, and Harry opened his eyes to see him lick his lips, already contemplating. "He said he was going to? Do you know if he actually did?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I left as soon as he said it. I'm so sorry, Draco, I really am."  
  
"Don't apologize, Harry. He might decide not to go to the Ministry, or someone might talk him out of it. We'll stay with Blaise for a few days to lie low, just in case."  
  
"How do you know we can trust Blaise? He could turn us in, same as Ron," Harry worried, and Draco sighed.  
  
"He already knows, Harry. I told him a few days ago and he was fine with it. Surprised and a lot more amused than he had any reason to be, but he wasn't angry. I was going to talk to you about it but I was afraid you'd be upset. I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer," Draco confessed.  
  
"I would be a hypocrite to be mad now," Harry said with a weak chuckle, and Draco took his hands.  
  
"Come on." He led Harry to his bedroom, grabbing a bag and casting an extension charm on it. Clothes and supplies flew towards them as he magically packed them away, not knowing exactly what he'd need. "We'll go to your flat next, and then I'll take us both to Blaise's."  
  
"We can't go to mine. What if Ron's waiting there?" Harry asked.  
  
"Then we talk to him."  
  
"What if there are Aurors with him?"  
  
Draco bit his lip, not having considered that. He took Harry's hand. "You take us both there. If we aren't safe, I'll get us both out, alright?"   
  
Harry took a deep breath and nodded. Draco closed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, squeezing Harry's hand in a silent gesture of comfort. Harry nodded and Draco felt the tug as Harry took him Side-Along to the flat.   
  
It was empty, but Harry's bedroom door was wide open. It had been closed when he'd left. He moved towards it slowly, Draco at his heels, but didn't see anyone inside. "He was here. Or someone was, anyway."  
  
Draco left his side to check Ron's room. "No one here now," he announced, returning to where Harry stood in his doorway. Harry licked his lips, eyes darting around nervously.  
  
"He could come back," he stated, picking up a satchel that had been left on his floor. Draco enchanted it and Harry began to fill it with waves of his wand, drawers shooting open and the closet door swinging on creaky hinges. Draco went to the loo to grab some toiletries, coming back to drop them in before Harry fed his Firebolt to the bottomless bag.  
  
He was fastening it shut and positioning the strap over his shoulder when they heard the whoosh of the Floo. They looked at each other when the flames cracked again, and then again. At least three people. Harry leaned over just enough to have a view of the fireplace with one eye, and three Aurors were staring back at him.   
  
He lunged towards Draco and took his hand, and then they were gone. Harry had never before visited the flat that Draco Apparated them to, but he spent a moment feeling impressed by how spacious and elegant it was before the panic set in. Ron _had_  gone to the Ministry. They were officially on the run from the Aurors. Harry had to remind himself to keep breathing regularly.  
  
"Blaise!" Draco called out, and Harry was relieved that he didn't drop his hand. Harry hadn't seen Blaine Zabini since his sixth year at Hogwarts, but as the man opened a door and came out to meet them, Harry thought he looked almost exactly the same.  
  
"No need to shout, Malfoy," Blaise drawled, but he was smiling. His eyebrows rose when he noticed Harry. "And Potter. Surprised to see you here. Might I just say, you're  _glowing_."  
  
Harry blushed and looked at his shoes while Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, very clever," Draco said sarcastically. "We need help."  
  
Blaise looked even more intrigued. "Help with what?"  
  
"I told Ron about- well, you know," Harry explained awkwardly. "Now we've got Aurors after us."  
  
"We need to stay in one of your mother's safe houses," Draco told him.  
  
Blaise's expression turned serious. "You'll want to get out of the country. Do you have brooms?" he asked, and both Harry and Draco nodded. "We'll use the Floo, and then you'll have to do just a bit of flying." He smiled, but his eyes were still tight. "Let's go before they think to look here."  
  
He led them to four different safe houses through the Floo, each having a second fireplace across the room for them to leave from than the one they'd arrived in. The whole thing seemed designed for escaping authorities, and Harry wondered – not for the first time – if the rumors about Blaise's mother and her late husbands were true.  
  
At the fourth house, Harry was feeling nauseous and was relieved when Blaise didn't lead them to the next fireplace. "Where are we?" Draco asked, looking out the window and trying to make out shapes in the darkness.  
  
"In Sweden, near Halmstad. Get your brooms."  
  
Harry blinked and opened his bag, groping around inside for his broom handle. He finally gave up and pulled out his wand, muttering, "Accio firebolt!" and catching it when it zipped out of the bag.  
  
"We're not staying?" Draco asked, pulling out his own Nimbus 2001.   
  
"No. You're flying to Denmark."  
  
Harry looked over at Draco with wide eyes before turning back to Blaise. "Denmark? You want us to  _fly_  to Denmark?"  
  
"They could find you here if they caught the scent and were really determined. You'll be safest if you fly. The place is protected by the Fidelius charm but my mother made me the Secret Keeper, so here." He handed Draco a map that had the safe house marked on it. "She'll change it to her sister when I get back, at least until they decide I can't help them find you."  
  
"The Gribskov forest?"   
  
"It's near a Muggle town called Hillerød. You'll be able to get supplies there and you won't be recognized. There aren't any Wizarding cities nearby."  
  
"Wait," Harry said, holding his palms up like he could physically stop the train of thought. "Can we get back to how we're flying to Denmark?"  
  
"You were both seekers," Blaise reminded him with half a smirk. "Quick fliers. Should only take you a few hours. The place should already be stocked with food, so try not to leave the house for a few days, just in case. There should be an impressive stash of krones there for when you do go into town."   
  
Harry groaned, but Draco stuck out his hand to take his friend's. "Thank you, Blaise. You've done more than I could have asked for."  
  
Blaise shrugged, but he was smiling. "I wouldn't stand behind an unfair rule. I just wish I could do more for you. I'll start bringing you whatever you need as soon as it's safe. Until then… Well, good luck."  
  
Draco nodded, his lips set in a grim line. "Come on, Harry," he murmured, opening the door and stepping outside. He checked the map and then climbed on his broom, spelling it to lead the way. Harry followed, still looking extremely unhappy about the turn of events but swinging his leg over his broom anyway. The wind wasn't strong, but that wouldn't matter if they were flying fast. He felt around in his bag for his goggles, wishing he had a full face mask. He was sure his nose would be frostbitten by the time they reached their safe house.  
  
Still, it was better than what waited for him back in London.  
  
"Thanks, Blaise," he said, kicking off to join Draco in the air. Blaise just held up his hand in the doorway, closing it and going back to the Floo once they were out of sight.  
  
***  
  
"We need to go out and get food soon."  
  
Draco jumped, shutting the curtains and turning to face Harry. Harry sighed, pulling his glasses off and wiping them on his shirt. "We're running low on food, Draco. It's been six weeks and no one's come looking for us here. I think we're safe to go into town, don't you? No one will recognize us there." He slid his glasses back on and blinked, his eyes pleading with his lover. "We're both going crazy, cooped up in here all the time."  
  
"It's kind of nice, in a way," Draco pointed out, though he knew Harry was right. "Six weeks of just you and me."  
  
"Hiding out in the woods of Denmark, on the run from the law," Harry teased, and Draco laughed.  
  
"That just makes it exciting, of course." He rested his hand on Harry's growing stomach. "I'm just worried about you."  
  
"And you."  
  
"And me," Draco agreed with a chuckle. "But I'd rather they catch me than you, if it came down to it."  
  
"I'd have to turn myself in," Harry reminded him quietly. "I couldn't have the baby on my own. You know that."  
  
"Blaise could help."  
  
"We don't know for sure that we'll see Blaise again. They could have him under constant surveillance. He is one of the most likely people to have helped us." Harry closed his eyes, resting his head against Draco's shoulder. He knew he shouldn't ask what they had both been thinking, because there was no way to know, but he couldn't help it slipping out. "Do you think we'll ever be able to go back?"  
  
Draco just rubbed Harry's back, pushing the curtain to the side to look out the window again. The forest was calm, and after a moment they saw a mother and baby deer trotting through the trees.   
  
"We'll go out today," he said, and it was worth the anxiety that gnawed at him when Harry beamed. "We can put a glamour on you so the Muggles won't see." At nineteen weeks pregnant, Harry would be too noticeable without one. A thought occurred to Draco and he smiled slowly. "We can put glamours on both of us. No one could possibly recognize us that way, unless they specifically tested us for it. And why would they, if they didn't expect to see us there? It's perfect."  
  
Harry smiled at his excitement, still just happy to leave the cabin. "Whatever will make you feel better," he agreed.   
  
They left the house fifteen minutes later, glamours in place. Draco had spelled Harry to have long, dirty blond locks and big blue eyes, and Harry had left Draco with short ginger hair and green eyes much like his own. Draco's scowl when he saw himself in the mirror nearly had Harry doubling over with laughter.  
  
Draco clutched Harry's hand tightly as they made their way through the woods, eyes darting around quickly in anticipation of sudden attackers. Harry squeezed his hand back to offer silent comfort, wishing he could do more to assure Draco that they were safe. He wasn't sure why he felt so comfortable there, but after six weeks, he figured they would have been found already if they were going to be.  
  
They let go of each other as they neared the town, not wanting to draw any more attention to themselves than they absolutely needed to. They kept their heads down and just tried to blend in, and Draco grabbed Harry's arm suddenly as they crossed a street towards a grocery store.   
  
"Neither of us can speak Danish," he hissed, eyes wide. Harry's light eyebrows rose.   
  
"And? It's not like we're the first English people to ever visit the country. The  _Muggle_  shop owner will not know who we are the moment we speak, I promise." He smiled as Draco nodded, slowly calming down. Harry stopped when they reached the other side of the street, pulling his lover aside. "Draco, you saved us. All of us. We're okay now. You don't have to be so terrified all the time; it's not good for you."  
  
Draco tilted his head in a slight nod. "I know," he murmured, taking a deep breath. "Alright. Let's get food for you, shall we? I imagine you'll just keep getting hungrier as time passes, if that's even possible."  
  
Harry punched his arm, but he was smiling when they entered the shop.  
  
As he had promised, they weren't recognized by anyone, even with their accents. Draco tensed when he saw someone's hand go into their pocket, exhaling heavily when they pulled out a mobile phone rather than a wand. They made it out safely, though Draco suspected his arms might fall off under the weight of the bags they carried out with them and worried about Harry lifting so much.  
  
They found a secluded spot nearby to charm them to be weightless. He felt better when they reached the woods – they'd made it out to the town and back to Gribskov without any drama. He thought they could probably take walks around the forest as well so they wouldn't get so restless being stuck indoors all the time. Draco slid the straps of his weightless bags over his shoulder so he could take Harry's hand, the bulk making it awkward but it was worth it with their arms swinging between them.  
  
They reached the cabin and Draco took a quick look around just to be cautious before pulling out his wand to cast  _Alohamora_. He pushed open the door, ready for the feeling of absolute security within their safe house, and froze when he saw the broom and dragonhide bag leaning against the wall.   
  
He dropped the grocery bags to the floor and held up his wand, looking at the broom again. He tilted his head to the side, seeing the engraving on the side that read ‘B.Z.'  
  
"Blaise?" he called out, his wand still out and ready to defend them. His paranoid mind told him it could be a trick. He moved carefully through the cabin and heard the shower water running, glancing back at Harry who quirked a curious eyebrow. Draco approached the door, rapping out two sharp knocks and stepping back quickly. "Blaise!" he called out again.  
  
"Draco?" The water shut off less than thirty seconds later and soon Blaise was opening the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. His eyebrows rose when he saw them, and he squinted as he looked closer. "Is that you?"  
  
Draco frowned and looked between himself and Harry, realizing the glamours were still on. He waved his wand and they dropped.  
  
"Oh, thank Merlin," Blaise said, smiling at both of them. "I hoped you'd gone into town but I couldn't be sure. Considering the state of your pantry, I figured I could give it some time before going out to look for you."  
  
"We needed groceries," Harry confirmed, realizing they'd left them and going back to get the bags. He used magic to carry them all, floating them until they landed gingerly on the table. Draco hoped he hadn't ruined anything by dropping his bags to the floor. Blaise had returned to the bathroom and dressed himself by the time everything was settled.  
  
"If you weren't in any rush, I assume that means we're still safe," Draco said, and Blaise beamed.  
  
"Absolutely. I'm no longer a suspect. I have an excellent solicitor," he said proudly, his face quickly turning more serious. "Word got out, though. You two are all over the papers. They're playing the victim card with you, Harry. Bewitched by the evil former Death Eater."  
  
Harry frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. It didn't give off as much of the manly incredulity as he was going for, what with the rounded stomach. "Bewitched? Where in Merlin's name did they get that idea?"  
  
"People don't want to assume their boy-who-lived could do something like this under his own volition. Well, most people. There's a growing number who still think you're on the path to be the next dark lord. But the Weasleys are fueling the first opinion. I've been seeing the young Miss Weasley quoted quite often, in particular."  
  
"That's good, though. I'd rather they blame me than both of us," Draco said, and Blaise rolled his eyes.  
  
"Quit playing the martyr, Draco, it doesn't look good on you. I know what bewitchment looks like, and Harry is far from out of his mind with some dark spell. You're both in this together, equally."  
  
"He's right," Harry said, shooting Draco a pointed look. "I'm as much responsible for this as you are. More so, even. I convinced you to keep it."  
  
"Hardly took much convincing."  
  
"If we're finished playing this pathetic round of let-me-take-the-blame," Blaise interrupted, heading into the hallway and returning with his bag. "I brought supplies."  
  
He reached into his bag, extracting books various bottles, which he set on the table. "Potions ingredients," Draco noted happily, checking them all to take inventory of what Blaise had brought him. Draco had been worrying about Harry needing potions that he couldn't provide and couldn't buy at any local Muggle stores. He would have been forced to find the nearest Wizarding town, and put them all at risk.  
  
"And books," Blaise added, begging to stack them on top of each other. "Your mother gave them to me, actually," he said, glancing at Draco whose eyebrows ros in surprise. "Didn't say anything; just owled them to me. I guess this means she's supporting you both in this – and figured out I'm involved."   
  
Draco chuckled, fond and a little sad for missing her, and reached for one of the books. The leather covers were all blank. "What are these?"  
  
"Books on male pregnancy. Passed down through the pureblood families, if they didn't have them destroyed. You still had a few in the Black library, I suppose." He pulled out another four books, thick and heavy. "And potions manuals, and pregnancy texts for female pregnancies. There might be some useful information in here."  
  
Draco nodded, flipping through the delicate pages of the male pregnancy book. "Thank you, Blaise. This will save us."  
  
"Oh! And one more thing." A good portion of Blaise's arm disappeared into the bag, and he pulled it back out with a thinner book in hand. He presented it proudly, and Harry laughed.  
  
"What is- ‘The Blokes' Guide to Pregnancy'?" Draco read, and Harry shook his head.  
  
"I will pay to see you read a Muggle book on pregnancy," he told Draco, little giggles still bursting out of him even as he tried to control himself. Draco's eyes narrowed, but he took the book when Blaise held it out, insistent. Draco glanced through it and rolled his eyes.  
  
"This is an utter waste of time," he declared, and Harry just smiled and sat at the table to get off his feet and peruse the potion ingredients himself. Blaise grinned, his hands in his pockets.  
  
"Couldn't help myself. And I figured Harry would get a kick out of it." He pulled a pocket watch out of his robes and then glanced out the window, sighing. "Looks like I should get back on my broom now. Can't be gone for too long, on the off chance anyone decides to check in on me. By the way, Harry," he began. "A one Miss Hermione Granger is currently being investigated for helping you two hide from the ministry."  
  
Harry blinked. "Hermione? Why would they think Hermione helped us? She was there at the Weasley's that night, against it just like the rest of them were."  
  
Blaise hummed curiously. "I've heard she was caught seeking out books on male pregnancy. Turned any last eyes off me, luckily." He held up his hands at Harry's concerned look. "Calm down, Potter. They haven't locked her in Azkaban or anything. They're just following the lead. There's nothing there for them to actually find, so she'll be alright. I just thought you might want to know that she's… educating herself."  
  
Harry's eyes fixed on the table as he processed the information. Draco squeezed his shoulder, walking Blaise to the door and leaving Harry to think.  
  
***  
  
Harry was dozing off on the sofa, enchanted knitting needles working away at his side. He looked over when they went quiet, smiling at the little green blanket lying on the table. He slowly pushed himself up, his stomach bulging at almost thirty weeks into the pregnancy, and swung his legs over onto the floor.   
  
He took the blanket to the bedroom, where he'd placed a new dresser for the baby's things. Draco had been steadily filling it with clothes and cloth nappies he bought in Hillerød. It had been a sad day for Harry when they'd decided he couldn't accompany Draco on the trips to the city anymore, in case someone bumped into him and realized he was bigger than his glamour made him appear. For the final months of his pregnancy, he had to make do with walks around the forest at night.  
  
"It'll be nice when you're born," he murmured, rubbing his hands over his stomach. "We can all go into town together. Maybe even go back to England someday," he said wistfully, but knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. Even if they stayed hidden away the rest of their lives, it would be worth it for him to have Draco and the child.  
  
"Harry?" he heard Draco call out, and Harry followed the voice to the living room.   
  
"Right here," he said, his hand cupping under his belly. "The needles made a blanket."  
  
"Useful things," Draco noted. "I'm glad Blaise sent them. Here." He held out a phial and Harry groaned.  
  
The potions had the consistency of sludge and gave off fumes that smelled like curdled milk. It hardly tasted like anything, but between the odor, texture, and questionable shade of green, drinking it always made him feel like he was about to be sick. The Malfoy's old books on male pregnancies had described it and Draco made it perfectly, according to the texts. It didn't seem perfect to Harry, especially now that he was having it twice a week.  
  
"Hold your nose," Draco told him, heading into their kitchen and returning moments later with a mug. "I've made some decaffeinated tea to help wash it down."  
  
Harry sighed and gripped his nose with his fingers to block out the smell. He scrunched his eyes shut and fought to control his gag reflex as he tipped the phial back, swallowing the vile potion as quickly as he could. It was taken from him and the mug pressed into his palm before he could even reopen his eyes, and he gulped down the tea to wash the feeling from his mouth.  
  
He wiped his lips and smiled at Draco, who took the mug back to the kitchen, Harry at his heels. "You're nearly done," Draco promised.   
  
"I know." Male pregnancies didn't last as long as female pregnancies – a fetus could only get so big in a body that wasn't designed for it. They guessed Harry only had about six weeks left, but the bigger and more uncomfortable he got, the slower time seemed to crawl. It didn't help that he didn't have much to do to distract himself. He'd had a very eventful young adulthood, so to suddenly be stuck in a cabin for most of the day, without much to do other than read books and sleep, was making him restless and often cranky.   
  
Draco liked to remind him that in a few months he'd be dying for more sleep. Harry liked to swat him away when he did so.  
  
Harry looked towards the window when he heard a sound from outside, stepping closer and cracking it open. He listened hard, quickly shutting it again when he realized there were voices coming from the trees.  
  
"Someone's out there," he hissed, and Draco was instantly at his side, peering out into the dimly lit woods.   
  
"They won't be able to find the place. They won't even be able to see us. Not without Blaise telling them where we are, and he wouldn't." He flicked the lights off just in case, wrapping his arms around Harry and resting his hands over his stomach. "He wouldn't," he repeated, both of them staring out the window with pale, blank faces.  
  
It was the fear that they'd had in the back of their minds for months: that eventually the Aurors would find them. They would terminate the fetus and lock them both up in Azkaban for dark magic, and all of the hiding out and being cut off from their family and friends would have been for nothing. They would lose their family before it could even begin.  
  
Harry had lost far too much family in his life to lose this one.  
  
He leaned back into Draco's touch and they watched silently, waiting to see if anyone would approach their cabin. Harry's breathing quickened when he caught glimpses of a group of them, and Draco squinted his eyes to get a better look. They came closer and both wizards could see they were dressed in Muggle clothing, talking and laughing and passing a bottle between them. Twenty feet from the cabin, they took a sharp right, none of them seeming to notice they'd veered off their original course as the magic kept them away.  
  
"Muggles," Draco breathed, laughing quietly. "They're just Muggles."  
  
"Merlin." Harry rested a hand over his chest, waiting for his adrenaline levels to return to normal. "Of course they are. If the Aurors were going to find us, they would have done it by now. It's been months and they know we don't want to be found; they've probably given up looking. Of course." He felt silly not, but also totally relieved.  
  
"Let's have a bath," Draco suggested, kissing Harry's neck. He took Harry's hand and led him to the bathroom, Harry moving a bit slower than he used to.   
  
The tub in the safehouse was more than large enough for them both to fit comfortably, and Draco stripped down after getting the water and two kinds of scented soaps started. He kissed Harry before pulling his shirt up and over his head, taking his glasses with it, his baggy trousers and pants coming off next. Harry brought his arms up around Draco's neck to keep their lips locked and tongues brushing together until the automatic taps shut off when the tub was full. Draco helped Harry onto the bench on one side, climbing in after to sit behind him with Harry between his legs.   
  
Harry leaned back, his head on Draco's shoulder, and let his lovers hands run over his wet skin. Draco mouthed at his neck and shoulder and Harry moaned, pressing back into him more. His arse wiggled against Draco's cock and Draco reached down to take hold of Harry's, stroking slowly.  
  
"Ah, Merlin, Draco," Harry murmured, relaxing under Draco's attention. Draco stuck his other hand down between his own legs, bypassing his prick – which was quickly becoming engorged as Harry squirmed and moaned in his lap – and pressing a finger up into his lover.  
  
Harry gasped, his pleased groan shooting straight to Draco's cock. Draco worked him open with one finger, then two, and finally three as he kept up with easy, steady strokes of Harry's cock to distract him from any pain the stretching caused.   
  
They shifted down onto their knees in the other half of the tub where the floor level was equal to that outside the tub, and the water went up to their chests. Harry's excess weight was easier to carry with the water to buoy him, and he gripped the edge of the tub, his knees spreading apart.  
  
Draco guided his prick to Harry's hole, gripping his lover's thighs as he slid inside. He relished the sensations: tight heat constricting around his cock and keeping much of the rest of his body surrounded in warmth. He looked down to watch through the rippling water as he pushed in and pulled out of Harry's body, slow movements that had gentle waves lapping the sides of the tub.  
  
He kept it up for a while, listening to Harry moan and whimper and beg, and then had to speed up the pace. He ignored the water splashing over onto the floor, soaking the rugs – they could catch fire for all he cared at that moment. He took hold of Harry's prick again, causing the water to slosh around in choppy movements as he jerked him in time to his quickening thrusts.  
  
"Fuck, Harry, you feel so- Oh, Merlin," he gasped, sucking his claim on Harry's skin. He came first, crying out against Harry's shoulder as he emptied into him in short bursts. His hips twitched as his hand jerked Harry mercilessly, and he felt more than saw Harry's orgasm, the angle and Harry's belly keeping his cock out of sight.   
  
"Draco! Merlin, Draco, yes!" Harry gasped and choked out a shuddering moan, writhing against him, and Draco knew.  
  
He pulled out when he caught his breath, carefully helping a sated Harry back up onto the bench. He climbed out, stepping gingerly so he wouldn't slip on the wet tile, until he reached their pile of soaked clothes. He pulled out both of their wands, setting Harry's on the counter and using his own to empty the water in the tub, dirtied with their come. They needed new to actually be able to wash themselves.  
  
He turned the taps again and joined Harry back on the bench to snog him senseless until the tub was full again.  
  
***  
  
Harry was pacing, Draco was trembling, and Blaise had been rolling his eyes so often he feared they'd fall out.  
  
"Harry, I-"  
  
"Don't!" Harry snapped, and Draco cowered back on the sofa.   
  
"Harry, we really ought to be monitoring you," Blaise spoke up. "We need to know when to start the procedure."  
  
Harry swallowed hard and eventually nodded, wincing a moment later. "Merlin, it hurts," he complained, hands on his stomach. "How do we know when it's time?"  
  
"There's a spell," Blaise explained, glancing at Draco who was still looking down at his socked feet and keeping silent. Blaise had never seen him so terrified. "It'll turn green when we're ready to start."  
  
"Why do they always turn green?" Harry griped, his eyebrows furrowed. "All these fucking spells, always turning green."  
  
"Well, once we remove the small human you've been growing inside of you, you can get to working out a new spell that turns purple or orange or even makes a rainbow, if you'd like. Until then, it's going to turn green. But you can't move so much or it won't work."  
  
Harry stopped pacing and nodded. "I want to do it in the bedroom," he decided. "On the bed."  
  
"Whatever makes you the most comfortable," Blaise agreed, slipping into healer mode. "Come on, I'll do the spell." He glanced at Draco, still frozen on the sofa, and led Harry into the bedroom. When Harry was laid out with the spell cast, waiting for the right time, Blaise returned to the living room and kicked at Draco's calf. "What is wrong with you?"  
  
Draco winced and rubbed his leg, glaring up at his friend. "I- I'm not ready. I haven't read it enough times, I'll ruin the spell and hurt him, or hurt the baby, or it'll come out fine and then I'll be a shit father. What if I turn out like  _my_  father? Blaise, I can't-"  
  
"Hey," Blaise interrupted, snapping his fingers in front of Draco's face. "First of all, I know you know the spells backwards and forwards. Secondly, Harry would never let you be anything like your father. He'd kick your arse if you tried, so you don't have to worry about that. He's going to be fine and the baby's going to be happy and healthy and disgustingly adorable. As weird as it is to say, Harry's good for you. He loves you and he knows you can do this, so find your bollocks from wherever you dropped them and get ready to say hello to your firstborn son."  
  
Draco blinked and nodded, taking a deep breath for courage before standing up. "You're right. I can do this for him. I wouldn't let him down." He smiled, clapping Blaise on the shoulder. "Thanks, Zabini."  
  
"Anytime, Malfoy."  
  
"Draco? Blaise?" Harry called from the bedroom. "The light's green! What do I do?"  
  
"Showtime," Blaise murmured, grabbing the books and following Draco out of the living room.  
  
The spells, though crafted hundreds of years ago, worked perfectly. With Draco and Blaise working together, it took less than half an hour for the infant to be safely removed from the womb, and Harry healed and woken up. He was groggy from the spell that put him under, but his eyes cleared when they laid the baby in his arms – no longer shrieking, but still occasionally emitting soft cries.  
  
"He's really here," Harry breathed, feeling teary eyed from the shock and sudden burst of love he felt holding the child they'd run away for. "And so small."  
  
"I have to admit, you two made a cute kid," Blaise said, perched on one side of the bed while Draco sat on the other. He looked at Harry and smirked. "You feel like doing any dark magic? Going on a murder spree? Plotting a hostile takeover?"  
  
"I feel like cuddling my boy and sleeping for days," Harry told him with a short laugh. "But we have to name him first. We agreed we wouldn't name him until we saw him." He looked over the baby, waiting for a name to come to mind, but none quite fit. "Any ideas?"  
  
"Scorpius," Draco provided instantly.  
  
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "That sounds like such a Malfoy name."  
  
"He  _is_  a Malfoy," Draco said, and Harry frowned.  
  
"Why can't he be a Potter? I may have been the one to get pregnant, Draco, but I'm just as much a man as you are. He could take my name." He was too tired to give a hard look and just ended up pouting, but Draco still considered it.   
  
"The Malfoy name isn't what it used to be, I suppose," he reasoned, looking at their newborn with a fondness Harry rarely got to see. "Scorpius Hyperion Potter."  
  
"Hyperion? Now you're just torturing the kid," Harry teased, but brushed the tufts of hair away from the baby's head. "Scorpius Hyperion Potter," he repeated with a smile. "Welcome to the world."  
  
***  
  
"Blaise is supposed to come today."  
  
"That's today?" Harry asked, smiling. In school, he never would have imagined he would one day look forward to seeing Blaise. Though he supposed having a child with Draco Malfoy wasn't something he'd seen in his future either.   
  
"Yeah. Sometime in the next hour is what he said, assuming the weather's okay."  
  
"It hasn't looked bad here," Harry noted, resting his head on Draco's shoulder. They were sharing a quiet moment together on the sofa, something that had become rare in the past few weeks. "Is he bringing more potion ingredients?"  
  
Draco nodded. "And money. His mother's latest husband passed, so he's got plenty extra."  
  
"Condolences," Harry muttered, and Draco snickered. Harry closed his eyes but wasn't able to drift off at all before he heard the wails coming from the bedroom. The baby was much louder than something with such tiny lungs should have been, in his opinion. "My turn."  
  
He stood and grabbed his glasses to slip them on as he crossed the room. He hoped he would someday adjust to feeling tired all of the time, but Draco had just laughed when he'd voiced that hope out loud. The exhaustion was worth it, though. Seeing their son never failed to make him smile.  
  
"Good afternoon, Scor," he cooed, lifting the baby from its bassinet to hold him against his chest. Scorpius had had to spend the first two weeks of his life in a protective dome of spells since he'd been so small, but he had reached a good weight that had Harry and Draco feeling more secure.   
  
"How was your nap?" Scorpius continued to cry against him, and Harry felt the wetness of his nappy. "Let's get you changed, huh? That can't be comfortable."  
  
When the baby was clean and dry, Harry carried him back out into the living room, wrapped in the knitted green blanket that matched the baby's eyes quite well. He was pleased to see Blaise on the sofa with Draco, his dragonhide bag at his feet.  
  
"If it isn't mother and child," Blaise greeted, and Harry scoffed.  
  
"I won't always have a baby in my arms, Zabini. You're getting hexed for that," he warned, smiling when Draco laughed. "What news do you bring from the other side of the law?"  
  
"Funny you should mention that, actually. Official word is that the law isn't currently after you. The Aurors aren't on the look-out for you anymore. I mean, I'm sure if you waltz into the ministry they'd take action, but they aren't trying to collect any information or make any extra effort for you."  
  
"That's a start," Draco mused, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders when Harry sat next to him.   
  
"And I'm not finished. There are some people speaking up, starting to rally together. They're still afraid of what the ministry might do, you know – so soon after the war, they don't want the minister to go mental and take extreme action – but they're questioning the law. Some are talking about trying to challenge it. Like you said, it's a start, but a good one."  
  
"Could be back in England by the time Scor's ready to start school," Harry said, grinning down at the infant he was rocking in his arms, who just blinked sleepily back at him.  
  
"If things go well," Blaise agreed. "I'll keep you updated. I should be able to send owls from now on so we can communicate more often, but I wanted to do this in person. I have something for you, Harry."  
  
Harry blinked as Blaise dug in his bag. He usually brought ingredients for Draco or various items the baby might need. Harry didn't think he'd ever had anything specifically for him.  
  
Draco took Scorpius so that Blaise could hand Harry a letter with his name written across the front in familiar handwriting.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"She gave this to me to pass on to you. Smart girl, that one."  
  
Harry laughed and nodded. "Yeah, she is." He opened it and fixed his glasses, soaking in every word. He hadn't even realized how much he'd missed his friends until receiving the bit of contact. "She wants to visit," he said when he'd finished reading, closing the letter carefully. He knew he'd want to read it a few more times, to feel close to her if nothing else. "Ron hasn't come around, but she says she understands. She wants to see us."  
  
Blaise smiled. "I figured it would be something like that. She just needed all the facts, and now she knows it doesn't mean you're the next Dark Lord."  
  
"Do you think we can trust her?" Draco asked, and Blaise shrugged.  
  
"I'm not sure I should be telling her where to find you yet, but you could send her an owl. Get caught up with each other so it won't be awkward when you see her next."  
  
"That's a good idea. I- I'll do that now, if you won't mind. You could take it back for me? We don't have our own owl."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Harry grinned, holding the letter to his chest for a moment. He pressed quick kisses to Draco's cheek and Scorpius' forehead and then darted from the room to find parchment, ink, and a quill. It only took a few moments thought to be able to start writing, the words soon pouring out of him. He was thrilled at the thought of talking to Hermione again, of slowly getting pieces of his old life back.  
  
Deep down, he was convinced that he'd have it all back some day. He missed the support and love of his friends, the people who had become his family. More than anything, he wanted to share all of that with the family he had now.   
  
He scratched his name down at the end of the letter, folding it up and writing her initials on the outside flap. He carried it out, beaming, and passed it to Blaise as he sat down with Draco again.   
  
Scorpius was resting comfortably in Draco's arms as the man talked, and his thin, dark blond hair was a mess no matter what Draco did, or how much he complained about it defying all logic and reasoning. They looked good together – father and son – and Harry fit in just right, curled into Draco's side.  
  
His life had never been easy. At times it had been a complicated, heartbreaking mess, and he still had regrets and fears and things he wanted to change. Sitting there, though, he knew he'd have Draco and Scorpius to stand by him through the rest of his journey, even at the darkest times.  
  
And he was completely and utterly happy.


End file.
